


places

by SoManyThings



Series: when in japan [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alcohol, Childhood Friends, Light Angst, Long-Distance Friendship, M/M, Making Out, Mutual Pining, Slow Build, Underage Drinking, awful online nicknames, probably more than light but yknow what? im optimistic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-13
Updated: 2017-01-06
Packaged: 2018-09-08 06:23:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 14,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8833792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoManyThings/pseuds/SoManyThings
Summary: They had been planning this reunion for sixteen weeks, four days and six hours. Or so. Not that Oikawa had been counting, or anything. based off this prompt:‘We’re childhood friends but you moved really far away when we were younger, and even though we kept in close contact I’m only just now getting a chance to visit you and GOD it’s harder to ignore this crush when you’re right here and I just wanna jump you’





	1. arrival halls

**Author's Note:**

> OH BOY HERE COMES THIS aka it's christmas and i have free time and i was like "yknow whats better than studying for finals? iwaoi!!!" 
> 
> based off this prompt:
> 
> ‘We’re childhood friends but you moved really far away when we were younger, and even though we kept in close contact I’m only just now getting a chance to visit you and GOD it’s harder to ignore this crush when you’re right here and I just wanna jump you’
> 
> which is lowkey based off me and a friend, but in a much gayer way <3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT 21/12/2016: im re-posting this because i've made some changes to the first two chapters in terms of grammar and stuff eue

They had been planning this reunion for sixteen weeks, four days and six hours. Or so. Not that Oikawa had been counting, or anything. 

Still, no matter how quickly he sped-walked through customs, the doors leading to the arrivals hall couldn’t come up fast enough. The point was, he had been waiting for _this_ , whatever ‘ _this’_ was, for even longer. He was finally back in Japan, for first time in nearly eleven years. And where there was Japan, there was Iwa-chan.

_ ‘Iwa-chan, who is hopefully on the other side of those doors,’  _ he thought as he finally caught a glimpse of the wide sliding doors up ahead of him. He slowed down from the frantic pace he had taken up after his luggage finally appeared and he dragged it off the belt like it was water in a desert. 

Whether the heavy beating of his chest was down to the mad dash halfway across Tokyo airport, or the realisation that he was  _ finally here,  _ after so much planning and wishing and wanting, he would never know.

With a deep breath and a mental kick to the backside, he shoved himself through the doors into Tokyo.

It was, unsurprisingly, like every other airport arrivals gate he'd ever been in. High ceilings, tiles everywhere, fluorescent lights, excited family members, cheesy gift shops, tall boards full of names of cities and times and airline companies. Oikawa’s eyes cast around the room, passing over men and women with stuffed animals and roses, stoic faced drivers with formal placards, old couples sitting to the side glancing up expectantly every time the door swished open.

His heart and hopes slowly sank, before chiding himself for being so immature. “ _ You’ll still see him soon, Tooru-” _

“Hey dumbass, quit zoning out in the middle of the gate!”

Oikawa’s head flew up, eyes landing instantly to the figure in the middle of the gap left between people for travellers to exit. His eyes widened when they took in the wide stance, the short choppy hair, the denim jacket (same as he’d had since he was 16), and finally to the broad sign in his grasp, with the words “WELCOME HOME, SHITHEAD” written in bright teal paint, both Japanese and (disastrously messy and slightly misspelt) English.

However fast he had power walked through customs was no match for the sprint that he used to launch himself at Iwaizumi. Iwaizumi who, of course, simply caught him and swung him around like he was a rag doll- the smooth bastard.

When he finally set him down (and dear god, had he bruised his ribs?) the dialogue ranged around an impressively scant selection - incredulous laughter, quiet shrieks and smiles wider than the pacific.

“I have so much to show you-”

“I want to see  _ everything- _ !”

“What do you want to do first-?”

“I’m so happy-”

“ _ Jesus, Oikawa-” _

And on, and on, and  _ on,  _ constant and utterly insubstantial chatter following the two as they slowly yet excitedly made their way out to the parking garage. After a while of walking (not that Oikawa noticed, given his preoccupation with  _ Tokyo  _ and  _ Iwa-chan  _ and  _ internal shrieking _ ) Iwaizumi leant down to tap on the window of a small and ratty looking car, glancing back at Oikawa as if to make sure he was, in fact still there, and not a figment of his imagination. 

Oikawa peered around him at the sound of the door clicking open, to be met with a head of aggressively pink hair.

While Iwaizumi fiddled with Oikawa’s bags – at his insistence, going so far as to slap away his hand when he tried to help – Oikawa stuck his hand out to the lanky figure leaning against the car roof.

“Oikawa Tooru, nice to meet you-”

“So  _ you’re  _ the infamous Oikawa?” The man asked, with a small chuckle. Oikawa raised a puzzled eyebrow. “Hanamaki Takahiro,” he added. “I’m Iwa’s roommate, and my  _ god,  _ have I heard things about you.”

“Good things, I hope?” Oikawa asked, sparing a glance at Iwaizumi over his shoulder, still buried in the back of the car.

“Well, he was telling us this once-”

“Shut  _ up,  _ Makki!” Iwaizumi yelled, slamming the trunk with a loud bang. Oikawa jumped; Hanamaki just laughed. Without further ado, the trio got in the car; Hanamaki in front, and the two sitting in the cramped backseat, not even minding the fact their knees pressed together awkwardly. 

“Where d’you live, again?” Hanamaki asked, glancing at Oikawa in the mirror as he began to drive them out of the garage and into traffic. 

“San Francisco. We moved when I was eight.”

“You’re from Miyagi too, right?” He asked. Oikawa nodded.

“Hanamaki grew up in Miyagi as well, we actually went to the same high school.” Iwaizumi added, excitedly. Oikawa remembered hearing about the infamous Hanamaki Takahiro: how his hair colour changed in shades but never hue; how he had a mean spike; how him and his best friend were a bit of a disaster in terms of humour.

“So are you at university in the states?” Hanamaki asked. Oikawa spared a glance at Iwaizumi.

“I thought you told your friends all about me, Iwa-chan! Did you really do _that_ bad of a job for me to have to repeat everything again?” He asked, receiving a punch to the arm in response. After faking a pout, he turned back to Hanamaki, who had been watching on in amusement. 

“My English was so bad when we first moved that I had to be held back a few years. I don’t start for another year.” 

“Where do you think you’ll end up?”

To that, Oikawa only shrugged, glancing out at the window. He did know where he wanted to end up, and where he had a good shot at going. But this was a trip about Iwa-chan, and anything that’d change the tone of it was something he wanted to avoid at all costs. After a mere beat of silence, Iwaizumi jumped up, as if he just remembered something.

Oikawa spared him a questioning glance as he rattled through his bag, about to ask before the words died on his lips.

“You got me  _ milkbread!”  _ He shrieked, grabbing the food out of his hands greedily. Iwaizumi laughed as he devoured it and practically moaned into the treat.

“Damn, you weren’t kidding, he  _ loves it _ .” Makki muttered. Oikawa just nodded excitedly.

“You can get it in the states, but it’s nowhere near as good,” he muttered in between mouthfuls. Iwaizumi rolled his eyes, hiding his small smile in his palm as he leant against the window.

Oikawa glanced at him from the corner of his eye, hiding his smile in his dessert as it grew and threatened to collapse into giddy laughter. He shut his eyes with a small hum, drawing Iwaizumi’s attention to him in the form of a questioning look.

In response, he merely reached over and nudged his best friend’s shoulder, whispering (or squealing, as Hanamaki later insisted) “I’m in Japan!” punctuated by another tiny, excited screech.

He got a smile, a large, genuine smile, in response, and nothing else could have lifted his spirits higher.


	2. cities

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT 21/12/16: also edited this chapter in the way of grammar and wording and all!

The wait outside arrivals was agony, filled with nervous fidgeting and shuffling until the unmistakable mop of brown curls made its way out of the constantly opening-and-shutting doors. 

There was a lot of doubt and many drafts over the sign. Was it too much? Was the teal too bright? Would Oikawa appreciate it? Of course, Hanamaki just  _ had  _ to wait until they were already in the car and very nearly late to pick him up to point out he had missed the ‘A’ in ‘shithead’, and that ‘welcome’ only had one L. 

But regardless, now he was here, and Iwaizumi couldn’t fucking handle it.

It had been easy to pretend like he wasn’t falling head over heels for his childhood best friend when he lived across an ocean. It was much, much harder when he wasn’t even across the hall. 

Of course he noticed the looks Hanamaki shot him through the car ride home. The tiny glances and offhand smirks when Iwaizumi smiled a beat too long, or the wink when Oikawa declared his love for him because he remembered to buy an oddly specific brand of milk bread - they were utterly unmistakable, and completely unappreciated.

Really, the rush of finally seeing him for the first time in  _ eleven years,  _ with the boundless nervous energy and the shrieking and laughing when they  _ finally _ reunited – that had taken the front seat in the heat of the moment. Now that they were finally home, and relaxing, and  _ together…  _ That was where the real problem arose. 

Everything was slow, now, as tends to happen when you wait for something for so, so long, and can’t even begin to process what to do with it once it arrives. 

“So, where are you taking me first, Iwa-chan?” Oikawa hummed, the omnipresent lilt in his voice still there, and much clearer than it was over Skype. He had flopped onto Iwaizumi’s bed, leaning back on all of Iwaizumi’s manypillows like he owned the damn things. 

“Do you really want to go out after an eleven hour flight?” Iwaizumi asked, incredulous. The droop in Oikawa’s eyes were noticeable, but so was the way they sparkled, and the bright smile beneath it.

“Of course! I only have two weeks here, Iwa-chan, and I won't rest until we've exhausted everything Tokyo has to offer _.” _

Iwaizumi rolled his eyes, about to answer before the low rumbling of Oikawa’s stomach cut him off. He rose an eyebrow, shooting a look down at his friend.

“Well, I think that answers that.”

They ended up going for ramen, at a small, greasy restaurant down the road, in the true spirit of Tokyo student living. 

“Classy,” Oikawa teased. Iwaizumi cuffed him on the ear in response.

Their dinner that night had more excited babble, laughter and jaw aching smiles than eating, but neither boy found himself caring. 

It was as if they had been living together their whole lives – in a way, they had, but one would still expect a degree of awkwardness, or at the very least, nerves, to be present when they finally could see each other face to face again. Iwaizumi had expected all of that and more, was waiting for it to just appear, but it  _ didn’t.  _

When they finally finished, happily stuffed full, they ventured out into the warm summer night. The flat wasn’t horribly central, but not at all far from it either, meaning the walk through the neighbourhood was quiet enough to be relaxing, but still packed with enough people to jostle the two into each other every once in awhile.  _ ‘Hardly like it matters,’  _ Iwaizumi thought, glancing over at Oikawa periodically, trying to ignore the blush that he could feel threatening to make an appearance on his face, or the idiotic smile just beneath. 

He watched Oikawa’s eyes roam everywhere. At the neon kanji signs, at the shadowy green trees light up by streetlights and vendors. Across strangers’ faces, or out across canals, to the buildings on the other side. All of it, he took in with captivated wonder.

Iwaizumi knew for a fact that Oikawa had been to Tokyo when he was younger, quite a few times. They had gone together more often than not, whether for school trips or family outings. But he could only just begin to imagine what it would be like to see it again, as an adult, after being so heavily assimilated to a completely separate culture.

“How is it being back?” Iwaizumi asked, drawing Oikawa away from his wondered stupor. Oikawa levelled his gaze, and gave a soft smile before responding.

“It’s like coming home.”

\----

While Oikawa took a shower later that night, with a harsh warning not to fall asleep standing up, lest he fall and break something, Iwaizumi bundled himself on the sofa to wait for his return. Absentmindedly, drawing his attention away from the TV for a moment, he heard the door opened and shut with a click.

“I hope you have some damn clothes on,” Iwaizumi called.

“Ohoo, did I interrupt something?” Hanamaki responded with a teasing lilt. Iwaizumi glared over his shoulder at his roommate, absentmindedly noting the shower still running quietly in the background.

“Fuck off, Makki.” He grumbled, turning back to the TV and pointedly ignoring his friend as he crashed onto the couch next to him. They sat in silence for a beat; Hanamaki inevitably broke it.

“You keep touching him.”

“I haven’t seen him in eleven years, of course I am.” Iwaizumi spit back, attempting to hide the flush making its way up his face. Hanamaki turned to face him fully.

“You better fucking tell him, Iwaizumi,” he said. “ _ Before  _ he’s on his way back to the airport.” Iwaizumi rolled his eyes.

“And fuck up the first time I’ve seen him face to face since I was eight? No thanks.”

“Would you rather regret it for the  _ next _ eleven years?” Hanamaki retorted.

“Why is that even a question?” Iwaizumi said. “Of course I don’t. But honestly, what’s the likelihood I won’t regret whatever ends up happening?”

Hanamaki only smiled in response, before reaching out a hand to ruffle Iwaizumi’s choppy hair and being swatted away for his effort.

“D’you remember when me and Mattsun got together?”

“Of course, you wouldn’t shut up about him not liking you back for months.” Hanamaki shrugged with a small noise of agreement.

“It’s the same situation,  _ Iwa-chan.”  _ He said in a teasing sing-song voice. Iwaizumi gave him a glare.

“You don’t even  _ know him,” _

“Yes, but I  _ do  _ know homosexual tension when I see it, my good friend.”

Iwaizumi huffed, glaring daggers at the TV screen to avoid looking at his friend, lest he acknowledge that he actually had a point.  _ Not _ about any tension (homosexual or otherwise), but the regret. And speaking of regret-

“Iwa-chan!”

Oikawa was over the couch in a matter of seconds, landing heavily on both Iwaizumi and Hanamaki with a dull thud. Iwaizumi groaned, and Oikawa only laughed.

“You’re still soaking, Oikawa, what the fuck-”

“Blame your towels! They’re hardly luxury, Iwa-  _ ow! _ ”

As Oikawa rubbed the reddening edge of his ear, Hanamaki shuffled out from under his legs and stood up.

“I’m calling it a night, I’m meeting Issei tomorrow, so-”

“Nice to meet you, Makki-chan!” Oikawa called. Hanamaki rose an eyebrow and shot Iwaizumi a questioning look, who only gave him a look as if to say ‘I told you to brace for nicknames’ back. Hanamaki let out  a small and disbelieving laugh.

“Don’t forget what I said, Iwaizumi.” He called, turning to flip them a peace sign and making his way out to his bedroom.

“What was that about?” Oikawa asked, turning back to his friend, who sat with his hands pressed to his face. After a moment he spoke.

“He’s annoying as shit, but we’re friends for a reason.” He grumbled.

“Aw, so he’s just like you, Iwa-chan!”

“Says you!”

“You love me really-”

“Oh, shut up.”


	3. arcades

It had hardly taken anything at all to convince his parents to let him fly across the pacific and stay for two weeks in a foreign and semi-unfamiliar city, not when the name “Hajime” had been mentioned. Honestly, the hardest part had been negotiating with Takeru whether or not he would get one present or two. 

And just like that, it had been decided. It would be a two week trip; he would stay in Hajime’s room on his spare futon; they would see absolutely fucking  _ everything. _

And here it was. After so much planning, and  _ wanting,  _ he was finally here. Back in Japan. Back home.

Dear god, was it a lot. 

It didn’t help that the jet lag was hell, really. He had lost almost an entire day, when he spent time to stop and think about it - which is exactly what he ended up doing at 4am. Lying next to the peacefully dozing lump of blankets (and about a billion pillows) that was Iwaizumi, staring at the dark ceiling, as he had been doing for god knows how long.

He sat up with a huff, patting around for his glasses before trying to make his way out of Iwaizumi’s bedroom without making any extra noise that might wake him up. He quietly made his way through his friend's apartment, aiming only for a glass of water, and instead coming across a pink haired figure slumped at the kitchen table over what looked like The Sims.

Hanamaki looked up in surprise at the interruption, before settling down when he saw it was only Oikawa. 

“Hi,” Oikawa said; Hanamaki gave him a small smile and nodded, seeming to relax.

“You fucking terrified me, Iwaizumi is never up at this time of night,” he said, before glancing at the clock on the oven and rephrasing: “Well, morning.”

“He sleeps like a rock, doesn’t he?” Oikawa laughed.

“And is totally oblivious to just about everything,” Hanamaki agreed.

Oikawa chuckled in agreement, getting himself a glass of water and sitting across from Hanamaki, drawing his finger over the scratches in the table. He remembered Iwaizumi telling him a story of when he and Hanamaki had decided to replicate real life fruit ninja, resulting in much maimed furniture, a shockingly small amount of injuries, and no sliced produce.

“Not bad to look at though,” Hanamaki laughed, drawing Oikawa out of his thoughts.

“Is that right?” He asked, stilling his hand and drawing it away from the rough surface of the table. He admittedly hadn’t been looking at Hanamaki, but at his silence, he chanced a glance up to find him staring at him. He looked back at him steadily. Hanamaki merely snorted. 

“I knew it,” he said, leaning his face against his palm, still looking at Oikawa. He merely laughed, self deprecatingly. 

“I’m screwed, right?” 

Hanamaki sighed, reshuffling in his seat and looking down to his laptop, instead of Oikawa. 

“Me and my boyfriend didn’t get together for  _ months  _ because neither of us got up the courage to say shit,” he said. Oikawa nodded, understanding, internally finding himself relieved about the mention of a boyfriend. “Just say something to him, or this will never end."

“Tooru?” 

The two looked up at the sleepy mumble that came around from the doorway, finding Iwaizumi standing in his pyjamas and scratching at his ankle with his other foot. Hanamaki’s eyes flickered between the two. 

“Sorry, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa smiled. “I couldn’t sleep, so I came to get some water and found Makki-chan.”

“Did we wake you up?” Hanamaki asked; Iwaizumi shook his head. 

“Just wanted to check nothing was wrong,” he responded. Oikawa stood up.

“Nice chatting to you, Makki,” he said, standing up and walking to his friend, following his groggy figure back into his bedroom.

“Oikawa?” Hanamaki called; he looked back. “Just go for it, honestly.”

Oikawa gave him a smile, only a small bit wistful, and shut the door to Iwaizumi’s bedroom with a soft click.

\---

“So where do you want to go?”  Iwaizumi asked, hands in his pockets as he strolled along the city streets. 

“ _ Everywhere _ ,” Oikawa responded, voice nothing but serious. 

“Okay, good start,” he laughed.  

They made their way around the city, walking along so Iwaizumi could point out pieces of local trivia, just like Oikawa had always loved. They wandered through Harajuku, explored the millions of shrines that caught Oikawa’s eye, and stopped for no less than two hundred selfies. 

After stopping for bubble tea, Oikawa gasped, stopping cold in his tracks and drawing Iwaizumi’s attention to him. He turned to look at his captivated friend as he stood with an open mouth and glittering eyes, before following his gaze and smiling at the bright lights of one of the larger arcades in the city. 

“ _ Hajime _ ,” Oikawa said, spinning on his heel towards Iwaizumi to grab his shoulders. Iwaizumi’s eyes widened as Oikawa leaned towards him, noses nearly pressed to each other. “We  _ have  _ to go in.” 

Reaching down to clasp onto his wrist, Oikawa led (read:  _ dragged _ ) Iwaizumi into the bustling arcade, Iwaizumi laughing along as he let himself be pulled into the cluster of people and machines.

“Oikawa-” Iwaizumi called, nearly yelling to be heard over the noise of clacking games and loud dinging. “Oikawa!” 

He reached forward his other hand and grabbed his friend, pulling him back. Oikawa spun around on his heel, unbalanced, grabbing onto Iwaizumi’s shoulder to steady himself. Iwaizumi gave him a soft flick to the ear, chastising him wordlessly.

“Don’t go running off,” he grumbled. Oikawa merely laughed, lacing his hand in Iwaizumi’s and pulling him along, through the collection of games and people, stopping every so often to convince Iwaizumi to play a round with him. 

They wandered for a while, chatting and laughing as much as they could amongst loud laughing teenagers and tinny 8-bit video game music, before Oikawa stopped, drawing Iwaizumi to a halt next to him. The claw machine next to him was full of bubbly cartoon alien plushes, and his eyes gleamed.

Iwaizumi spared a glance at him, laughing at his wondrous expression.

“You’re awful at these, Oikawa,” he laughed. Oikawa sent him a glare.

“Mean, Iwa-chan!” he cried, before digging his hands into his pockets to pull out change. Iwaizumi rolled his eyes before shoving him out of the way.

“You’re going to waste all your money, dumbass,” he mumbled, grabbing his own wallet and inserting a coin into the machine. Oikawa threw himself over Iwaizumi’s shoulder and laughed.

“The perfect best friend,” he hummed, practically into Iwaizumi’s ear, who rolled his eyes and hoped Oikawa didn’t notice the blush on the back of his neck.

“Shut up and let me win you a fucking alien,” he grumbled, doing his damndest to ignore Oikawa nuzzling his face against his choppy hair. 

7 minutes and 1500 yen later, Oikawa Tooru was in possession of one frankly hideous (no matter how much he insisted it was adorable) plush UFO.

They carried on wandering around for a while, moving closer and closer together as the arcade got busier and busier. As Iwaizumi stopped to find a way through the crowd, a rushing pair of little kids shoved past Oikawa. He stepped away from the crowd to let them through, before belatedly noticing that in doing so, he had stepped straight into Iwaizumi’s personal bubble.

The two had unwittingly been shoved into a small corner, away from the direct traffic of the arcade, with Oikawa’s back to the winding paths between all the machines, and Iwaizumi’s back to the wall. Oikawa watched his friend’s eyes widen as he pressed back into the machine, moving away from Oikawa marginally, but hardly having shifted at all. By this point, their feet were practically interlaced, and the group of school girls behind him fussing over who would get a turn next had them trapped. 

His traitorous brain couldn’t think of anything but how out of the way they were, how private it seemed, how  _ easy  _ it would be to just press his lips against Iwaizumi’s.

He laughed, only a touch awkwardly. 

“Thanks for this, Iwa-chan,” he said, softly, if only for lack of anything else to say that wasn't horrifically incriminating. “I’m really happy I’m here.”

They were close enough at this point that the constant ringing and bitty music weren’t interfering in whether or not they could hear each other. Iwaizumi looked him in the eye, breathing out softly, his face  _ so close. _

_ ‘Don’t fuck it up, don’t fuck it up, dear god Tooru don’t fuck it up,’  _ he repeated to himself, over and over again like a mantra, as if him saying it enough times would keep him from pressing his mouth against his best friend’s. That was all he truly wanted to do at the minute, and the length of time he had lasted was, quite frankly,  _ damn _ impressive. 

“I’m happy you’re here too, Tooru,” Iwaizumi responded, voice rough, but nonetheless earnest. 

Oikawa smiled. He took a long look at his friend, and how the bright neon lights of the flashing games flickered across Iwaizumi’s face. Vaguely, at the back of his mind, he thought about what Makki had said, but pushed it out of mind. He didn't want anything to change from how it was right now, he realised. 

Someone behind Oikawa rushed past, jostling him into Iwaizumi. The plush UFO between them made a soft squeaking noise.    

Neither mentioned the fact their hands were still interlinked, at risk of drawing the other’s attention to it and losing the point of contact between them. Absentmindedly, Oikawa’s hand twitched, squeezing Iwaizumi’s. He hummed, twitching his hand in return. 

_ ‘It would be so easy, Tooru,’  _ he thought to himself, ‘ _ So, so, easy, so easy, so-’ _

“It’s getting late,” Oikawa whispered, cutting off his train of thought. Nothing should change.  _ Nothing _ . Iwaizumi blinked. 

“Yeah, do you want to head out?” He asked, voice quiet. Oikawa inwardly sighed - no objections from Iwa-chan, of course.   
Oikawa just nodded, drawing his hand away and stepping back, and heading out of the arcade without a word. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> its getting to the point where, if i was reading this, id be eternally frustrated, so i hope thats the case with all of yall <3
> 
> anyway, as always, come yell about iwaois with me @americanbeautiies.tumblr.com


	4. clubs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is called the "LETS MAKE FICTIONAL CHARACTERS UPSET BC PLOT" so, yknow, enjoy ~

Iwaizumi was the first person Oikawa had ever come out to, when they were fifteen.

Really, it wasn’t a surprise. His first few months at high school had been a rush; new people, new responsibilities, new pressures, new realisations. But throughout it all, there was one constant, even if that one constant was living all the way back home in Japan.

**tooooooru [12:32 pm] :** iwaaa-chaaaaaaaan~~ can i tell u a secret!!!  
**hajime-chan [1:02 pm] :** sure.  
**tooooooru [3:11 pm] :** i think im gay  
**tooooooru [3:12 pm] :** i just thought u should know bc ur my best friend!  
**hajime-chan [3:30 pm] :** oh. ok.  
**hajime-chan [3:31 pm] :** idk how to respond but i accept you for who you are.  
**hajime-chan [3:31 pm] :** wanna hear a tongue twister?

And that had been that, really. It had gone the same sort of way when Iwaizumi came out to Oikawa; calling him over Skype in the midst of a slight gay panic and having it explained that yes, you can find girls pretty without wanting to date them, but even then, there are other sexualities, and so on and so on.

It was easy enough to accept that they were each other’s “gay best friends”, to make jokes and laugh about it. Because that was what they were, right? Each other’s gay best friends?

But that didn’t explain the jealous knot deep in his gut that Iwaizumi felt when Oikawa logged on one night to gush about the first boy he had kissed, at a party one night in his candle lit back lawn. It wasn’t an explanation for the uneasy feeling he got when Oikawa excitedly babbled over the boy who asked him to homecoming in his sophomore year. It didn’t help clarify why he could look around the gymnasium full of tall muscular volleyball players who most definitely piqued his interest, but weren’t who he  _ wanted. _

Unfortunately for his dignity, Hanamaki had been on the receiving end of many drunken spiels about how beautiful his long distance best friend was, and how much he fucking  _ missed him.  _ And if there was one thing that you should know about Hanamaki Takahiro, it was that he was sometimes a blessing, but very often, a curse.

And also, pretty deep into some semi-illegal shit. 

“C’mon, you’re gonna make your best friend stay sober for the whole two weeks?” He cried. Oikawa nodded along enthusiastically.

“Iwa-chan, it’ll be fun!” He cried, draping himself dramatically over his best friend’s shoulders, and leaning his head on them. The wisps of his hair tickled the bottom of Iwaizumi’s chin. Hanamaki gave him a look, reminding him of a significant glare he had gotten during a conversation they had a few days before Oikawa had arrived.

_ “I swear to god, Iwaizumi, if alcohol won’t help you, nothing will,” Hanamaki had moaned, draped over the kitchen counter. Matsukawa had been cooking. And Iwaizumi… Iwaizumi was questioning his choice of friends.  _

_ His mind strayed to the last time he had been truly drunk, the mess of emotions, tears, unintelligible messages to Tooru-  _

_ “Absolutely not,” he huffed. “I’m not going to get drunk and confess my feelings to my best friend.” _

_ “You’d be surprised, it works wonders,” Matsukawa chimed in. Iwaizumi rolled his eyes. _

_ “You and I both know that I had more to do with the start of your relationship than alcohol ever did,” Iwaizumi said. Matsukawa just laughed, and turned around to press an over exaggerated kiss on his boyfriend’s face, receiving a swat in response.  _

_ “Think on it, dude,” Hanamaki hummed, before kissing Matsukawa properly and leaving Iwaizumi to roll his eyes with a loud wretching noise in the directions of his friends. _

“C’mon Iwa-chan, for me?” Oikawa said, with a pout. Iwaizumi looked down at him in what was mostly mocking disgust. 

“Yeah,  _ Iwa-chan,”  _ Hanamaki hummed; Oikawa laughed, and that was really all it took for Iwaizumi to cave. 

So, much to Iwaizumi’s regret, after Hanamaki’s victory fist pump and far too long getting ready thanks to Oikawa, they were on there way to one of the small, dingy clubs Hanamaki knew would let in if you were underage and had contacts, which, of course, he did. 

It wasn’t huge, rather just set up underground beneath a building that students could use to study. Even still, at this time of night, and even from the stairs, Iwaizumi could feel the bass of the music through his feet and vibrating up his body.

When they arrived, Hanamaki made his way towards a tall man leaning against the door, covered in an impressive amount of piercings and tattoos, and snaked his arm around his waist. Iwaizumi nodded at him and waved; Matsukawa waved back, giving Hanamaki a quick peck on the lips.

“This is Oikawa,” Iwaizumi filled in, nodding at Oikawa as he took in the sight that was Matsukawa. “Oikawa, this is Matsukawa, Hanamaki’s boyfriend and one of my more regrettable choices of friends.”

“Jeez, Iwa-chan, why didn’t you tell me you had such pretty friends?” He lilted, winking at Matsukawa, who just laughed after sticking his (very pierced) tongue out at Iwaizumi.

“Back off, this nerd is taken,” Hanamaki hummed. Oikawa nudged him playfully. 

A part of Iwaizumi was over the moon that all his friends all got along, but the other part didn’t miss the way his gut seized up, like he was jealous. 

_ ‘Because you are jealous, Hajime,’  _ he thought, unhelpfully, before shaking off that train of thought and following the three down into the dark club.

It was loud, louder than the arcade had been by a  _ mile.  _ The room pulsed with a heavy techno beat, surprisingly not at all insulated by the mass of people standing in the centre. 

“This, my friends-” Hanamaki called, before his voice could get swallowed up by everyone around him, “is the best gay club in Tokyo!” 

“It has nothing on San Francisco, Makki,” Oikawa called, practically singing. 

Makki threw his arm around his and Iwaizumi’s shoulders, laughing as he led them to the bar. 

“Kuroo!” He yelled, attracting a particularly messily haired bartender. 

“Alcohol now, comparisons later!” Matsukawa yelled in Iwaizumi’s ear with a thud on the shoulder, reaching his arm back around Hanamaki’s waist and pressing a kiss on his neck before the latter laughed and pushed him away, and went back to ordering a collection of drinks. 

Iwaizumi glanced away, ignoring the feeling in his stomach by turning instead to Oikawa. He gave him a soft smile, before pointing back to Hanamaki and Matsukawa as they laid out lines of shots.

“You gonna drink?” He asked, only somewhat out of the blue, talking loud enough to be heard but low enough so that only Iwaizumi could make out what he had said. He wavered, looking into Oikawa’s worried gaze, before turning to look at Hanamaki laughing with Matsukawa’s mouth pressed to his ear, his cheek, his mouth-

“Fuck yes,” he said, enticing a laugh out of Oikawa.

“Cheers,” he called, looping his arm with Iwaizumi as they began to throw back drinks.

\---

“Have you seen Tooru?” Iwaizumi yelled, a few hours later, as loud as he could to make sure they could actually hear him. Matsukawa and Hanamaki shrugged, shaking their heads, hands still on each other in some form or another. They had been dancing together for most of the night, but when they eventually took a break they had come across Iwaizumi, standing near to the bar on his own. 

He huffed in annoyance. It was just too typical of Oikawa to wander off, in a foreign country, in a dark club of questionable credibility. The neon strobe lights pulsed in time with the hard bass, keeping Iwaizumi only slightly on edge as he scanned the club once more.

Out of the corner of his eye, when he finally turned back to his friends, he noticed Hanamaki’s widen.

“Uh, Iwa-”

“Fuck,” he heard - or at least, saw Matsukawa mutter. 

As Hanamaki made a move to grab onto his arm, he turned to follow his gaze to see where the two had been looking. Under a soft light, in the corner by the bar, was Oikawa.

Shamelessly grinding down some man’s chest.

He had practically dragged his body down the other man’s, and was grinning up at him from where he crouched on his legs. Iwaizumi shut his eyes, breathing in sharply and getting nothing but stale, sweaty air. When he opened them again, Oikawa had the other man’s lips pressed against his neck.

“Iwa-” he heard someone call, vaguely, and then there was a hand on his arm. He shook it off, and didn’t look back as he tried to make his way out of the mass of people and up the stairs into the street.

He wasn’t sure how many people jostled onto him, how many people ended up touching him, or how often he stumbled in the rush to get to the other side, and with it the door. He wasn’t sure who he was touching, until he shoved past one in particular, the only one that mattered.

“Iwa-chan? Iwa-chan!”

He didn’t look back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahh iwaoi, the ship of angst
> 
> also fun fact: iwaizumi's reaction is pretty much word for word how my best friend responded when i came out to her when i was younger :') 
> 
> anyway yell at me about iwaoi @americanbeautiies.tumblr.com


	5. streets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahh emotions :')

The man Oikawa had been dancing with was nice enough, really. He had told him that he was on a bachelor party, dragged to a gay club as the one straight friend.

“You sure I can’t convince you?” Oikawa had laughed into his ear, flirty in the casual way you can brush off as nothing when you’re drunk. 

 

He had laughed it off when the man bought him another few drinks. He had laughed it off as they had pretended to dance on each other. He had laughed it off as fell into character and sunk low to the ground and given a giggly wink up at the man.

When a rough hand grabbed at the back of his neck, played with the brown curls at the nape of his neck, whispered, “You’re doing a good job at convincing me” and pressed a line of kisses down his neck, he stopped laughing.

With two firm palms on the other man’s chest, Oikawa pushed him back. Ten years of volleyball had him stumbling. 

“Oh, is it like that now?” he laughed, and Oikawa felt a small bit sick.

“I- you said you were  _ straight,  _ I was  _ joking-”  _ He said, furrowing his eyebrows at the man, whose mouth dropped open.

“I- oh my god, I’m  _ sorry,  _ did you-? Shit, was that too far?” he gasped. Oikawa frowned, about to respond before being jostled into the wall by a passing figure. He turned around, about to yell at how inconsiderate some people could be, before noticing the unmistakable denim jacket and cropped hair that he thought far too much about.

“Iwa-chan!” He yelled after him, twice, as his best friend retreated up the steps. Without sparing so much as a glance back at the man, he dashed up the stairs to the street.

As Iwaizumi broke through the doors of the club, Oikawa reached down to grab at his wrist, clinging tightly and not letting him move any further without him.

Iwaizumi whirled around, and, to Oikawa’s shock, didn’t wipe away the streams of tears on his face.

“Fuck,” he whispered, losing his resolve and rubbing at his face with the palm of his free hand.

“Iwa-”

“Don’t, Tooru, don’t say anything, please.”

“What happened?” He whispered.

Iwaizumi stayed silent, and a little bit frozen, staring, zoning out and focusing on a single brick against the wall of the club.  _ Anywhere that wasn’t Oikawa _ . Above them, the neon sign for the club they had just been in began to flicker. His silence eventually prompted Oikawa to speak.

“Hajime, are you drunk?” he asked, his voice disgustingly soft. 

_ ‘Fuck,’  _ he thought, wishing that for once he didn’t tell Oikawa so much. Because he  _ knew  _ that Iwaizumi was a teary drunk. He  _ knew  _ that when Iwaizumi got fucked he was nothing but a downward spiral. Because  _ of course _ he was the person Iwaizumi had turned to when he was holed up in a club toilet at age 17 sobbing for no particular reason. 

“I- yeah, fuck, I just-” he gasped out, and then Oikawa’s arms were around his torso and all Iwaizumi’s traitorous brain could come up with was  _ ‘warm’  _ and  _ ‘soft’  _ and  _ ‘Tooru’.  _ The sick feeling in his stomach didn’t go away. Rather, it was made so much worse when his mind circled around the lie he was telling straight to the face of his closest friend.

Of  _ course  _ he wasn’t drunk. He had stopped drinking straight after the first few drinks he had done with the others, and he was by no means a lightweight. He didn’t want to ruin the little time with Oikawa that he had, but couldn’t exactly tell him  _ why _ he was jealous - especially given he had no fucking right to be.

“Hajime?” Oikawa said, drawing his attention back to his friend. “Did you hear me?”

“What?”

“I said, let’s go walking. I can send Makki a message and tell him we got bored, or-”

“No, I don’t want to drag you away if you were having fun-” Iwaizumi responded, the feeling in his stomach getting worse.

“Hajime, listen. If you’re not having fun, I’m not having fun,” Oikawa said sternly, holding Iwaizumi’s shoulders to look him in the eye. His brown eyes flickered between Iwaizumi’s, until the latter nodded, albeit reluctantly. Oikawa cracked a smile. 

“We’re getting you gross, greasy food, and then take Tokyo by storm!” he said excitably, wrapping his arm around Iwaizumi’s shoulder and gesturing to the street in front of them. 

“ _ The _ Oikawa Tooru, eating greasy food? But his  _ pores!”  _ Iwaizumi teased with a gasp, a small bubble of laughter following, and swallowing up the rest of the tears before they had a chance to fall. All he received in response was a flip of Oikawa’s hair and his best attempt at a dazzling smile, even if it devolved into senseless giggling so soon after. After he stopped smiling at his nerd of a friend, Hajime spoke.

“I’ll race ya,” he said, without warning, and then he was off, dashing down the street, away from Oikawa’s offended squawk and yell of “Iwa-chan, you cheater!” 

But then they were running, racing along the street at 4 am with their laughter and shrieks floating off into the air behind them and dissipating into nothing. The world blurred past in swatches of colourful lights and groups of people, and Iwaizumi didn’t care. He didn’t care,  _ he didn’t care -  _ he let out a whoop of laughter, glancing behind him and laughing again. Because it wasn’t just faceless people anymore, like it usually was walking along at night in the city. It was Oikawa too. 

He eventually slowed, reaching a light pole and swinging himself around it to turn back towards his friend. Oikawa halted, dropping his hands to his knees to help him catch his breath. 

“Jesus, Iwa-chan, how fast do you even  _ run-”  _

“Faster than you,” he hummed. Oikawa smiled. 

He watched as Iwaizumi huffed, and began trying to fix his own breathing, before letting out another laugh to the sky. From where they stood under the light, Iwaizumi’s face was illuminated golden and sent the rest of his body into stark contrast. His hands sat on his hips as he carried on laughing, and eventually Oikawa was laughing along as well.

“You’re so-” he began to chuckle, softly at first, before it got louder, drawing Iwaizumi’s attention to him.

“I’m so what?” he asked.

“So,” he began, before looking up at Iwaizumi with bright eyes. “So  _ Hajime _ ,” he called, still laughing as he did. Iwaizumi rolled his eyes, still laughing, but now curiously more than anything. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked, smiling still as he leant down next to Oikawa’s shaking figure. The latter hummed, standing up straight and leaning against Iwaizumi.

“It means you’re the best,” he said, dropping his head against Iwaizumi’s shoulder. His eyes widened, looking down at Oikawa with a soft blush making it’s way around his face.

“Tooru, are  _ you  _ drunk?” he asked, letting out another small laugh as he did. 

“Mmmm- maybe,” he smiled, wrapping his arm around Iwaizumi’s bicep and beginning to walk, dragging his friend along with. 

They carried on slowly, Oikawa still wrapped around his friend’s arm, and Iwaizumi finally without tears in his eyes. It was the time of the night when most people were either sensible, and in bed, or dedicated to the night, and still in clubs. Even still, it was in no way quiet. Tokyo never was. Nonetheless, they carried on in quiet contentment as they went. 

They found themselves near enough to the Tokyo Tower before long, deciding to follow the way through - at Oikawa’s insistence. Under the lights, between the small groups of people, they started to forget. They forgot Oikawa and the man in the corner of the club. They forgot Iwaizumi’s tears, and he forgot the jealous knot in his stomach. 

“Oikawa?” Iwaizumi asked, drawing his friend’s attention to him, as they slowed to a halt far enough away from the tower to get a good view of the lights.

“Hm?” 

“I was planning on surprising you-” he started, turning to him fully. Oikawa swallowed, and his heart began to thud.

“What is it, Iwa-chan?” he asked, a lilt in his voice to cover the nerves.

Iwaizumi glanced up at him, before taking a deep breath-

“It, uh, might be a bad time to bring it up, but, I- I bought us train tickets to go back to Miyagi, and-”

He was cut off from the rest of his explanation by a loud gasp. Iwaizumi lifted his head, planning to chance a look at Oikawa, before he had a heavy figure throw itself onto his body and jolt him backwards. Oikawa’s arms were thrown around his neck, and he shrieked loudly into his ears.

“ _ Hajime!”  _ he yelled, before repeating it over and over again. Iwaizumi shook him off, before stepping and watching Oikawa practically bounce in spot, like he was dying to hug him again. 

“Is that a yes?” He laughed, and this time Oikawa really did launch himself at Iwaizumi in a back-breaking hug. 

“See, you  _ are _ the best!”  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yell at me about iwaois @americanbeautiies.tumblr.com


	6. streams

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry @ the annoyingly large gap between this one and the last one, i realise i didn't leave it in the most favourable of spots hehe

The train journey was peaceful, which Iwaizumi was thankful for. He hadn’t been home in a while, and had been itching to travel back as it was. Getting the opportunity to bring Oikawa was just an extra special bonus. 

Said bonus was currently leaning against his shoulder while he took a nap as ungracefully as you could imagine: mouth open, hair flopped over his face, snoring lightly. Iwaizumi had noticed a while ago, and was content to let him sleep, so long as he didn’t drool. The state of said sleeping friend seemed to be in his favour, and he calmly let him be as he stared out the window. 

The phone on his lap quietly buzzed, drawing his attention from the rolling countryside - they had just passed a rice farm, it seemed. He glanced down at, hoping it hadn’t disturbed Oikawa, but fell into a frustrated eyeroll as soon as he saw the message.

**prince bubblegum [11:40 am] :** TELL HIM TELL HIM TELL HIM TELL HIM TELL HIM

**mr. hedgehog [11:41 am] :** shut up 

**prince bubblegum [11:45 am] :** so how goes the honeymoon ;) ;) 

**mr. hedgehog [11:47 am] :** i will block you, you know

**prince bubblegum [11:48 am] :** please, you would die without me to whine to  
**prince bubblegum [11:49: am] :** TELL UR BOYF U LOVE HIM AND THEN BONE

**mr. hedgehog [11:50 am] :** fuck off??

**prince bubblegum [11:51 am] :** sorry that was issei  
**prince bubblegum [11:51 am] :** but also, do it  
**prince bubblegum [11:51 am] :** ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

**mr. hedgehog [11:52 am] :** GOODBYE, MAKKI  
**mr. hedgehog [11:53 am] :** dont fuck in my bedroom while im gone

**prince bubblegum [11:54 am] :** we make no promises unless u confess ur love

**mr. hedgehog [11:55 am] :** MAKKI

He locked his phone with a click and a frustrated huff, turning back to the rolling countryside as a method of aggressively ignoring the direction the conversation had taken. Whether it was the image of confessing to Oikawa, or Matsukawa and Hanamaki doing a single thing in his bedroom, it was giving him a headache.

“Iwa-chan?” 

He looked down at the sleepy grumble coming from next to him, chuckling slightly at the way his hair stuck to his cheek. 

“Finally awake, I see,” he said, and Oikawa pouted. 

“Rude, Iwa-chan,” he began voice still gravelly as he continued to wake up. He paused, as if he was thinking on something, before changing the subject. “You were doing that thing where you glare at everything.”

Iwaizumi furrowed his eyebrows, and frowned slightly. 

“Yeah, just like that!” Oikawa laughed, dodging the punch Iwaizumi sent at his arm. “What’s up?”

“Hanamaki and Matsukawa are threatening to fuck in my bedroom,” he grumbled, and Oikawa made a face, before letting out a bubbly laugh.

“What are they threatening you for?” He asked, leaning in towards Iwaizumi, as if literally and figuratively pressing him for answers. All he got for his effort was a hand shoved against his face, pushing him nearly all the way off the seat with an offended squawk. As he made an effort to right himself to sitting normally again, Iwaizumi did his damndest to ignore the flush he could feel making it’s way up his face. 

“It’s nothing, really - I’ve been putting things off, and Makki is frustrated,” he muttered.

“Well, you’re on vacation, so don’t worry about him!” Oikawa sang, flopping back onto the seat with his hands behind his head. “Besides,” he said, turning his head to look Iwaizumi in the eye. He didn’t point out that his hair was still stuck to his face. “I’m here, so you shouldn’t be ignoring me for other people!” 

Iwaizumi allowed himself a soft smile at that, and felt himself grow warm when Oikawa reciprocated it in a wide grin. 

“Don’t worry, Tooru, I won’t.” 

\---

The soft slope they had trudged down to get to where they were now had been hidden behind tall foliage for as long as either of them could remember. The line of bushes and hedges separated any view of the small stream at the bottom of the hill, from the back of the Iwaizumi home, but the boys had found it easily enough when they were young.

No one seemed to know the small stream was actually there, they began to notice after the first few months of visiting. In favour of secrecy, the two had spent days creating a makeshift door towards the end of the line of hedges, between a particularly prickly holly bush and the cluster of trees. 

It was a small creek, easy to hop over, hardly even a foot deep. On either side, the little vein of water was surrounded by grassy banks that, as far as their childhood minds had decided, extended forever. They had spent months exploring it, going further than they were allowed and making it their little secret that they had done so. 

The other side of the creek led up a tall hill, which was always and forever a struggle to climb. Even so, in the seemingly eternal summers they had as boys, they had made the trek. It fell just as steeply on the other side, down even further to a quiet country road, and past that, allowed for a view of the mountain ranges Miyagi was known for. 

The top of this side of the hill was lined with fruit trees, which Iwaizumi had climbed many a time, to throw fruit down at Oikawa. During festivals that warranted fireworks, they would hide away atop the hill and watch them burst midair, and saw the colours rain down across the countryside while they sat enjoying fruit that they probably weren’t allowed to eat.

It really was idyllic. Even after the layers and layers of nostalgia and memories they both projected onto it, it was still  _ beautiful _ .  

“I spent ages here after you left,” Iwaizumi muttered, staring intently at a frog making its way across the line of rocks in the middle of the stream. He had put them there when they were six, after Oikawa had gotten upset over how difficult it was for the frogs to get to the other side.

Oikawa hummed, still working to complete the daisy chain he had started when they sat down. Iwaizumi carried on poking at the mud with the stick he had found, crouched with his knees bent up to his chest, with one arm around the top of them.

“Do you remember when you followed me out here, when I found out I was moving?”

“Of course, you insisted you wanted to be alone and yelled at me for coming outside when I saw you-”

“But I was crying too hard for you to believe me,” Oikawa finished, with a laugh. Iwaizumi smiled wistfully down at the running water. The frog had gotten to the other side, and hopped away into the tall grass.

“This is the first place I came after I left your house, when you went for the airport.” He said quietly, after a beat. Oikawa glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, still focusing on tying off the chain. “My parents yelled at me when I finally came home, because it had gotten dark and they didn’t know where I was.”

“I never told anyone about this,” Iwaizumi whispered, suddenly, drawing Oikawa’s attention as he placed the flower crown atop his friends head. It seemed to have gone unnoticed, with Iwaizumi still focused intently on something else.

“Really? What, never brought any boyfriends?” he sang, with a soft laugh. Iwaizumi rolled his eyes.

“Shut up, no- this was always our special place. I wouldn’t do that.”

Oikawa laughed, before swinging and hitting Iwaizumi on the shoulder. It drew a glare, before they were both laughing, knocking their shoulders against each other as they smiled widely.

“Yeah, I always missed this place,” Oikawa said, flopping backwards to lie on the soft grass and stare up at the sky. It was cloudy and overcast, but warm, and he let his eyes flutter shut. The sounds of the bubbling creek, cicadas - the sounds of summer - filled his ears. At the sound of rustling next to him, however, he peeked an eye open and looked to the side.

Iwaizumi had lay down next to him, eyes staring up at the sky and arms draped across his stomach. He turned his head to the side to meet Oikawa’s gaze, and smiled. Hardly thinking, the latter reached out, fixing the daisy chain where it had begun to fall off his head. He rose an eyebrow at him, puzzled more than anything and Oikawa, matching his gaze, just hummed.

“Flower crown, Iwa-chan,” he said. He drew his hand away slowly, hesitantly, and Iwaizumi rolled his eyes, but didn’t stop smiling. He had spent weeks perfecting his technique of making the stupid things, practicing and practicing after his sister had taught him one spring afternoon.

It was idyllic, Iwaizumi noted, all of it. After all these years it still was, even with the cloudy sky and the threat of rain. And more than that, it was  _ theirs. _

If he was ever going to tell Oikawa how he felt, he wanted it to be right here. In the lazy summer afternoons that were mirror images to the ones they had grown up with. When they didn’t need to worry about anything more than a lopsided daisy chain, or at the very least, when they could pretend the didn’t.

“Oikawa-”

“Hm?”

It was uncanny, how quickly his heart started thundering in his chest. How quickly his mouth stopped wanting to work for him.

Oikawa glanced over at him, eyebrows raised.

“What is it, Iwa-chan?” he asked, voice soft. Iwaizumi sat up, turning to sit cross legged and face his friend. Offhandedly, he noted that the daisy chain had fallen off his head; he reached for it, fiddling with the small petals as he tried to think of how to carry on talking.

“Iwa-chan?”

He glanced up. Oikawa had sat up, mirroring his body language, down to the furrowed eyebrows, even if his were scrunched up in worry, rather than nerves.

It was idyllic. It was perfect. Down to the stupid flower crowns, the stupid frog bridge, the stupid easy laughter between them.

He never wanted to ruin it,  _ never. _

“It’s nothing, I just remembered we should tell my mom we arrived safely- she’s not home for another few hours, so-”

Oikawa laughed, nudging Iwaizumi’s knee with his own.

“So dramatic, Iwa-chan, making me think there was reason to worry-”

“Shut up, you’re the most dramatic person I know!”

Oikawa merely smiled, before reaching forward and taking the flower crown from Iwaizumi’s hands with a soft mutter of, “You’re going to ruin it,” as explanation.

“Iwa-chan?” He said, as he righted the chain atop his friends head again and met his eyes. “You know, if there ever was something that you think might worry me, you could tell me anyway.”

“I know, Tooru. The same for you.” Oikawa smiled, glancing down at his hands before seemingly forcing himself to look Iwaizumi in the eye.

“I’m happy we’re together,” he murmured softly, not breaking eye contact, and Iwaizumi felt his breath hitch in his throat. It was just like it had been in the arcade, but calmer. More peaceful, more personal, and more of their own.

He absentmindedly nodded, not trusting himself to speak, or do anything but stare intently at Oikawa as he did the same. The small corner of his mind that wasn’t roped into making him breathe like a normal person practically screamed as he noticed Oikawa play with his bottom lip, as if he was deciding whether or not to say more.

_ ‘Or asking for a kiss!’  _ the shrill part of his brain exclaimed, and he forced it down.

“Tooru-” He started, breaking the silence and lurching forward marginally in his haste to get the words out.

Then it began to rain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> coming up with nicknames people would have on online chatting systems is my favourite part of fics
> 
> ANYWAY thanks for all the lovely comments & kudos its really nice that yall are enjoying this <3 
> 
> this was the chapter ive been stuck on for a while in terms of finishing it off so the next ones (AND THE RESOLUTION TO THAT JOYOUS CLIFFHANGER WHOOP) should come quickly <3 
> 
> as always yell abt iwaoi with me @ americanbeautiies.tumblr.com


	7. bedrooms

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im finally happy w this chapter holy shit 
> 
> anyway, enjoy!!!!

Oikawa shrieked, breaking Iwaizumi out of whatever daze he had put himself into with a smack to the shoulder and throwing himself up off the ground, dragging Iwaizumi with. 

And then they were running: leaping across the stream, sprinting up the hill while they desperately tried not to slip.

A very, very small part of his mind he noticed his hand was still in his friend’s, from when he pulled him up off the ground, but it was buried under the shock of the cold water suddenly drenching him to the bone. He let out another shriek, laughter this time, and Iwaizumi mirrored it as they scrambled through the holly bush gateway. It was a struggle between trying to minimise scratches while also getting through as fast as possible, but they somehow managed it and sprinted the rest of the way to his backdoor. 

Finally out of the flash storm, the two trudged through his house with residual laughter echoing out of their lungs as they tried to drip as little as possible on things in the pursuit of towels. As they made their way into Hajime’s room - drying themselves off as they went - Oikawa couldn’t help but notice the stretch of Iwaizumi’s back as he dug around for dry clothes. 

Noticing it in such detail, in fact, that he was drawn out of his daydreaming violently as a shirt and pair of shorts were thrown at his face. He let out a squawk, thoroughly offended at the fact Iwaizumi  _ laughed  _ at him, before chucking his wet t-shirt at his friend from across the room. 

They finally, somehow, got themselves dressed, with only a small break to smack their stickily damp clothes at each other before finally burrowing their way into the blanket pile Iwaizumi called a bed. 

In possession of hot chocolate, extra pillows and warm, dry clothes, Oikawa let the room fall silent. Distantly, noted the heavy fall of rain against the roof, and somewhere, a clap of thunder. Not that Oikawa minded, particularly. He had always loved sitting listening to storms; playing video games and watching bad movies while rain pelted the windows.

It was Iwaizumi who used to be terrified of storms: he had hidden himself in Tooru’s bedroom when they were five, and didn’t stop crying until Oikawa had bundled next to him and hugged him until he fell asleep. 

He spared a glance at Iwaizumi now, as he recalled how he had been as a child. As it was, he merely sat blowing gently on his hot chocolate to cool it down, even if he did jolt once or twice at a particularly bright flash of lightning. His face had taken on that red flush that comes from moving suddenly from the stormy outdoors to a warm house. It was a blotchy, deep shade of red, that by no means should make anyone look  _ good,  _ but here he ways - more endearing than ever before. 

A lot of things about him were endearing - his childhood fear of storms, the way his hair prickled in a billion different directions when it dried in a weird position, how he always blew on warm drinks.

_ Endearing  _ was not the right word for what had been happening down at the bottom of the hill, Oikawa finally acknowledged. Sure, Oikawa loved storms, but he did  _ not  _ love the interruption for whatever had been about to happen. It had been what, fifteen minutes since then? 

Well, that was fifteen minutes that Oikawa had spent aggressively trying to put the set of thoughts of what would have happened  _ if  _ out of mind. It was a fluke, he had told himself, it was the memories, it was him projecting. But it was  _ nothing _ . 

It still took a lot of energy to ignore for being simply nothing. 

“Let’s play a game, Iwa-chan,” he chimed, a last ditch attempt to distract himself. 

“Like what, truth or dare? It’s not like there’s anything you don’t already know about me,” He responded, not even bothering to look up from his mug.

“There must be something we can do aside from stare at our drinks,” Oikawa tried, and Iwaizumi shot his head up. He stared at him for a moment, exasperated, maybe offended, and Oikawa giggled at the way his eyebrows furrowed and his nose pinched in a pout.

“Never have I ever?” Oikawa suggested instead, taking his silence as a negative. 

“There’s nothing that I can say that’ll change your mind, is there,” he said, voice deadpan, before just sighing heavily. Oikawa broke into a wide smile, ignoring the hearty sigh in favour of raising his mug to clink the two together.

“Well, start already, dumbass.”

“Never have I ever cried over Toy Story,” Oikawa began, breaking into a triumphant smile as he did. Iwaizumi drank.

“Low blow, Shitty-kawa. Never have I ever accidentally punched myself in the face because I thought I saw a bee.”

“I’m allergic!” 

“You are not, you’re just a baby. Go.”

“Fine, never have I ever kicked someone because they refused to share their candies.”

“I was  _ six.  _ Never have I ever slipped on a banana peel and tore a ligament.”

“Complete accident, Iwa-chan.”

“That makes it even more stupid, you know.”

“Rude! But never have I ever done I body shot off my roommate.”

“I regret telling you about that night,” Iwaizumi said with a laugh, shaking his head lightly as he took a sip of his hot chocolate. 

“Excuse me, that was not the worst thing you told me about that night!” 

“I didn’t tell you  _ that  _ much-”

“I didn’t need to know so much about what it’s like to kiss Makki!” Oikawa yelled with a  laugh, whacking Iwaizumi on the shoulder as he made an offended noise. 

There had been a night early on in his college career: a very weird house party with just a little bit too much alcohol and a very drunk Hanamaki Takahiro who went around kissing anyone who would let him. And Iwaizumi was his best friend, they were having fun, it was practically a game, it meant nothing. 

(It didn’t stop Iwaizumi texting Oikawa seconds after it happened, not at all.) 

“It was one time, Tooru,” he grumbled. “And it was  _ Makki,  _ of course I’d tell you-”

“But not if it was anyone else?” Oikawa hummed, leaning forward towards Iwaizumi with a wicked, teasing smile. 

“Not like there’s ever been anyone else,” he muttered, before he could stop himself. 

There was a beat of silence: Oikawa felt his eyes widen, and Iwaizumi let out a breath. 

It had also been Iwaizumi’s first and last time kissing a boy. 

“Really?” Oikawa said, voice quiet. He had lost the teasing lilt in his voice, replacing it with sheer surprise. Slowly, he pulled himself back up to a sitting position, away from Iwaizumi.

“I mean, there was one girl in middle school, but that didn’t really count - it was middle school.” he muttered.

Oikawa eyed him carefully, how his eyes were back to fixating on the swirling contents of his mug, how his face had started to flush. It was endearing, he thought, because he was  _ embarrassed.  _ He was never embarrassed, not really - but while that fact was sweet to think of, it was a bit sad. Why should he feel embarrassed about it?

“I’ve only ever kissed 3 people, Hajime,” he replied, suddenly, drawing his friend’s attention away from the mug to look him in the eye. Iwaizumi furrowed his eyebrows. They sat in silence for a while, before Iwaizumi broke it.

“No way,” He said, and Oikawa laughed.

“Hey, you never told me that your only time kissing a boy was  _ Hanamaki. _ ”

Iwaizumi rolled his eyes. “Fine, go on.”

“My first boyfriend, at his birthday, one boy at prom and a girl in a game of truth or dare,” he said.  He had really liked the boys that he had dated, even if there had only been two of them. It didn’t matter anyway: they had caught on quite easily to the fact he wasn’t really interested. One of them (Shigeru - a soft haired boy he had played volleyball with) was actually one of his closest friends now, and most of the reason he realised what he felt for Iwaizumi wasn’t just familial.

Even so, Iwaizumi simply stared at him with furrowed eyebrows.

“What, do you not believe me?” Oikawa said; Iwaizumi shrugged. 

“No, it’s not that, it’s just, you always seem so-” he began, at a loss for words. He absentmindedly tightened the blanket around him

“So what?” Oikawa asked, pressing him.

“I mean, everyone seems to like you, so I figured…” he trailed off. Oikawa laughed, mock offense playing across his face. 

“That doesn’t mean I like them, Iwa-chan,” he sang. The corner of Iwaizumi’s lips quirked into a smile. 

“I know, I know, you just seem to like the attention when you get it,” he said.

“Like  _ when _ ?” Oikawa asked. Sure, he wouldn’t deny that he did like the attention, but it didn’t mean he’d be kissing everyone who bought him a drink.  

“There was the club,” Iwaizumi muttered. His voice was quiet, almost too quiet to be heard - Oikawa was surprised he caught it with such clarity. But he had, and-

“What?” Oikawa asked, voice laced in confusion. That was the night Iwaizumi got drunk, the night he was happy to edit the bad memories out of in favour of the best ones.

And the night with the man trying to kiss him, he realised. That hadn’t meant he didn’t want to spend time with Iwaizumi, it was a bit of fun that almost got out of hand, but was reined in before anything could happen. 

But if Iwaizumi didn’t know that-

If he had thought Tooru had left him just to kiss some random man-

“At the club Makki dragged us to, there was that guy-” Iwaizumi began, trailing off into a quiet, small voice. Oikawa’s eyes widened, and his stomach twisted. 

“Hajime, I didn’t kiss him-” he said, setting his mug down on Iwaizumi’s end table and turning to his friend fully. “That guy came up to  _ me,  _ I was just dancing.” 

Iwaizumi laughed, glancing up at Oikawa and looking him in the eye. 

“Tooru, it’s fine, I saw him kissing you-” he said. Oikawa rolled his eyes

“You were drunk, Hajime, I didn’t kiss-”

“I wasn’t drunk,” he said, cutting his friend off harshly. Harsher than he had probably intended, but still causing Oikawa to blink suddenly in surprise.

“What?” 

“I wasn’t drunk,” he repeated, voice clear, formal,  _ detached _ . “I stopped drinking after the first few shots we did together. I didn’t want to fuck up the little time we had together.”

“But, why were you-” Oikawa began. His mind was still busy sorting through all the new information he had received. He thought he had left him to kiss some guy, he wasn’t drunk, he was upset  _ anyway _ \- 

He looked at Iwaizumi, really  _ looked _ . The other man sat still. He had finished his hot chocolate, and was now just staring down at the empty cup. His thumbs tapped incessantly on the ceramic, clinking ever so slightly when his fingernails hit it directly. 

“Hajime,” he asked, softly, trying to coax him up to looking at him again. “Hajime, was it because I-”

“It’s fine, Oikawa, please don’t-”

“No, no, it’s because I left with the man-”

“Oikawa, honestly-”

“Hajime, I wasn’t going to leave you, I was already dancing with him and he took a break so I went with-”

“Tooru! It’s fine!” Iwaizumi yelled, breaking him off with a loud jolt. Oikawa jumped, but Iwaizumi gave him a soft, pitying smile. “You can do whatever you want, with whoever you want. It’s your body. And it’s not my place to be- to be  _ jealous,  _ but I couldn’t- I couldn’t help it.” He finished, tapering off into a quiet, small voice. 

“But I made you  _ cry,”  _ was all he said. Iwaizumi let out a laugh, a small one, like he didn’t say anything else after that. 

“It’s okay, Oikawa, if you don’t-”

Oikawa reached forward, grabbing his hands. Iwaizumi looked up, finding his friend staring at him intently. He blinked. 

“It’s  _ not _ , Hajime, if I upset you, it’s  _ not okay.”  _ He said, voice stern. 

Iwaizumi shut his eyes, and let himself feel the weight of Oikawa’s hands in his palms. Taking a deep breath, he gave them a short squeeze, before looking into his best friend’s eyes again. 

“Listen, regardless of whether or not I’m upset, you feel how you feel, and if it’s not the same as how I feel-”

And just like that, things began to fit themselves together in Oikawa’s mind. 

_ ‘Oh,’  _ he thought. ‘ _ Oh. He wasn’t upset that I wasn’t spending time with him, he was upset I wasn’t  _ kissing  _ him.’  _

“Hajime, do you li-” Oikawa started, before his friend could even stop talking. Iwaizumi threw his head up to look Oikawa in the eye, eyes widening dramatically, ears flushing to the tips.

“Tooru, shut up-” 

“For God’s sake, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa laughed. Iwaizumi blinked, confusion filling his face before it changed quickly to hurt, then to anger. 

“There’s no need to be a prick about it-”

He trailed off as he Oikawa untangled himself from the blankets and crawled over to him, taking the sides of his face in his hands.

“Tooru?”

His voice was small, still laced in confusion, a bit of hurt, and an awful lot of fear. 

“Shut up, Hajime,” was all Oikawa managed, before leaning forward to kiss him. 

He lingered for a second, feeling Iwaizumi’s face tense in his hands before slowly relaxing as he let himself be kissed. As he pulled back, however, to look at the rigid boy beneath him, he noticed the distinct lack of any positive facial expression - or any facial expression at all - and swallowed.

_ ‘Fuck.’  _

What was the likelihood he had gotten that completely wrong? 

“Iwa-chan?” He asked, with a quiet and painfully awkward laugh. He drew his hands away slowly, about to press him, ask again, but then it was like Iwaizumi  _ snapped _ .  

He shot forward, like a coil in him had been wound far too tight and finally,  _ finally,  _ exploded. He slotted their lips together while he knocked Oikawa backwards, twisting his hands tightly into hi shirt and falling forward, on top of him. Oikawa simply let himself fall. 

He had been falling for so long anyway, and it was about time he hit the bottom. 

He wrapped his arms around Iwaizumi’s neck, tightening his grip as Iwaizumi kissed him deeper. Somewhere along the way he had untangled his hands from Oikawa’s shirt to dig his palms into the blankets on either end of his head, and their grip twitched periodically as the kiss went on. His arms were blocking him in, caging him between a solid chest and the bed that was so much his own _ ,  _ and Oikawa  _ loved it.  _

“God,” he breathed out, not even pulling fully away from Oikawa’s lips to speak. “I cannot get my mind off of you,” he paused to nip at Oikawa’s lips. “And I haven’t been able to since we were sixteen-”

“Hajime,” Oikawa gasped out, once smiling widely into his best friend’s lips. 

“It was hard enough when you lived across the ocean, but it got a lot fucking harder when you’re not even across the hall, _ ”  _ he added, moving back down to kiss him, again and again and again. 

When he felt the face beneath his hands growing wet, he stopped, going rigid and pulling away quickly, like had been burned. 

“Tooru?” He asked, looking down at the crying boy beneath him. “Tooru? What’s the matter?”

Oikawa let out an incredulous laugh, pausing his hands where they had been rubbing at tears in favour of burying his red, teary face in Iwaizumi’s shirt.

“What the fuck, Tooru.”

“Shut up, I’m  _ happy,”  _ he cried, letting himself laugh and cry at the same time, while wrapping his arms around Iwaizumi’s torso and pulling him into a tight hug. Iwaizumi let out an exasperated sigh before he pressed a kiss against the top of his forehead, and ran a hand through his brown hair.

“I cry when I'm drunk, you cry when you're happy - what a pair we are,” he said, with a soft laugh. Oikawa mirrored it, even if it was broken up and interspersed between sobs. He dried his eyes on Iwaizumi’s shirt, and got a soft noise of disapproval.

“Don’t get snot on my shirt, idiot.”

“Hush, my tears improve your horrid taste in clothes!” he said, squeaking a bit as Iwaizumi glared down at him.

“You're wearing my clothes  _ right now _ .”

“Mm, just because they're warm, dry and Iwa-chan’s doesn't mean they're pretty!”

“Oh my god,” he muttered, sitting up and away from Oikawa. “Oh my god. I fell for a complete asshole.”

“Mean!”

“How could I have missed this. I'm disappointed in myself.”

“Iwa-chan!”

Iwaizumi looked down at him, and at his stupid pout, and the way his nose crinkled, and the way his face still had the remnants of tear tracks - and no matter how hard he tried to carry up the facade, he couldn’t stay annoyed, not even if it was fake. Not with Oikawa.

With a laugh, he leaned forward to kiss the pout off of Oikawa’s face, and Oikawa let him, gladly. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy iwaois holy shit!!! finally!!! its a miracle it ever happened!!!! whod have thought that would ever happen
> 
> headcanons galore in this chapter (personal favourite being tiny iwa afraid of thunderstorms) also yes, lowkey implication that oiks dated yahaba for a small time ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) my logic was that hes in a year below in america and whos in the year below and prob has a ridiculously huge and horrifically gay crush on oikawa??? YAHABA
> 
> but yes this isnt the end, stick around for more potential feels and guaranteed kisses <3
> 
> anyway as always follow me @ americanbeautiies.tumblr.com <3


	8. japan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow holy shit i finished it, im shocked 
> 
> ANYWAY ENJOY <3

When he woke up the next morning, Iwaizumi wasn’t next to him. 

Oikawa’s legs were tangled in some of the many blankets his best friend insisted on sleeping with, and the sheer number of them covering Oikawa was stifling. With much effort, Oikawa sat himself up, shoving blankets off in every direction as he did. 

Knowing his best friend, he could be anywhere by this time of the morning: the bastard woke up at 8 am no matter what day it was. But as memories from the night before started waking up with the rest of him, Oikawa started scrambling to find his phone. Shigeru was going to have a  _ field day  _ with this.

 

**CHAT:** **_california gays (and shinji!)_ **

**✧tooru✧:** PLS HELP  
**✧tooru✧:** PLS PLS HLEP 

**pretty boy:** omg tooru u havent texted once since japan   
**pretty boy:** wtf happened

**liberoooo:** lmao hows ur bf   


**✧tooru✧:** GUYS WHAT DO I DO   


**pretty boy:** calm down?    
**pretty boy:** if thats even possible for you to do   


**✧tooru✧:** rude, wattachan!    
**✧tooru✧:** and you too shigeru gosh   


**puppy dog:** will you guys shut the hell up?   
**puppy dog:** also who the fuck changed my nickname back to this?   


**✧tooru✧:** WE KISSED!!!    
**✧tooru✧:** OK!!! **  
** **✧tooru✧:** WE KISSED AND IDK WHAT TO DO!! **  
** **✧tooru✧:** WHAT DO I DO

**pretty boy:** wow

**liberooo:** holy shit

**puppy dog:** what

**liberoooo:** keep kissing him bc hes been ur wet dream since you were like 12?

**pretty boy:** shut up, shinji

**✧tooru✧:** HELPFUL ADVICE, PLS

**puppy dog:** ffs youre hopeless  
**puppy dog:** didnt you have smth to tell him anyway  
**puppy dog:** simple as that, itll be fine

 

“Tooru? Are you awake?” 

He tossed his phone on the bed almost guiltily, needing to consciously remind himself he did nothing wrong as he turned his head to where Iwaizumi stood at the door. Iwaizumi just blinked, confusion etched on his face. 

“Yep, I’ve had the perfect amount of beauty sleep, no thanks to your snoring- don’t throw things at me wa-chan!” 

Iwaizumi laughed, sitting down next to Oikawa and giving him a cup of coffee, as if that made up for the little stuffed toy he had tossed at his friend's head. 

“How are your parents?” Oikawa asked, taking sip of the coffee Iwaizumi brought him. Lots of milk, even more sugar: exactly how he'd been drinking it since age 16. 

“Uh, mom left a note downstairs, her and dad are out for brunch. Won't be back for another few hours.”

Oikawa nodded, and the conversation tapered off. There was so much to be said, and no way to say it, and they both knew it. But it  _ had to be said,  _ and that was the worst part. 

“Hajime-” Oikawa said, just as Iwaizumi had begun to say, “Listen-”

The two stopped, looking up at the other in surprise. 

“You go,” Oikawa said, simply. 

“I- yeah. I went on a run and got to thinking, and we should talk. About- well, after last night-” he began fumbling over his words in a way that only ever happened when he was thinking far too much. 

“What do you want, Iwa-chan?” Oikawa asked, quietly. Belatedly, Oikawa realised, he had started to hold his breath. He wasn't going to lie: he was terrified to know the answer. As in, the idea of finding out filled him with more anxiety than he knew humans were capable of feeling. 

“I really like you, Tooru, I  _ really  _ do,” he said. 

“You make it sound like there’s going to be a but at the end of that,” was the response, accompanied by a shaky laugh: a mockery of the light teasing lilt in his voice at any other time; a failed attempt to save face and seem casual. Iwaizumi bit his lip and looked him in the eye. 

“Tooru-” he began, and Oikawa let his eyes flutter shut.  _ This was going to hurt. _

“Tooru, it’s been eleven years and this is the first time we’ve actually seen each other,” he breathed out, eyes falling closed as tears began to bud as his eyes. 

And like that, Oikawa’s eyes had shot back open, heart beginning to beat harder. This was going somewhere, and it wasn't the blanket dismissal of ‘we’re best friends, let's not’ he had dreaded. At the back of his head, advice from mere minutes ago, direct from the states, circled around.  _ Simple as that, it'll be fine.  _

“And there’s the time difference, and money, and I just- I don’t know if I can do long distance, Tooru, and I hate that I feel that way but-” 

“I’m moving to Japan,” Oikawa said, softly, almost resigned _ ,  _ hardly more than a quiet breath. Even so, it burst out of his lungs like it was burning. 

For all intents and purposes, it was. 

Iwaizumi stopped cold, staring at his best friend wordlessly. 

“What?” he whispered, voice hoarse, like he was exerting all his energy into not crying. 

“I’m moving to Japan, for university, I got an offer for Tokyo University-” he spit out, suddenly breathless and rambling, loud and gasping as the words finally,  _ finally _ saw daylight. 

He stared near wildly at his best friend. The tears that had been budding at his eyes had started to drip down his face at this point, and Tooru let out a laugh, incredulous. 

“Again with the tears, Iwa-chan,” he murmured. Iwaizumi let out a small, hiccupy laugh. Oikawa shakily extended his hand out to cup Iwaizumi’s face, wiping away a tear with his thumb. When he next spoke, it was a whisper. “I just need to get the grades, and I’ll be home.”

“Oh my god,” was all he got as a response, before he was pulled into a bone crushing hug. He pressed his face into Iwaizumi’s neck, and let out a laugh-slash-sob. 

The boy above him just hugged him tighter. 

The soft moment, the ecstatic revelation, was ruined by Iwaizumi whacking him upside the head. 

“Why the fuck didn’t you tell me sooner, shithead?” He said, practically yelling as he looked down at his best friend with a glare. The threat was diminished by his red and still wet eyes, and the clear evidence of tears on his face, but it was still a force to be reckoned with. 

“It was gonna be a surprise!” he squawked indignantly. “I didn't want to ruin things!”

“You wouldn’t ruin shit, Tooru, the worst you ever do is excessively aggravate it,” he responded with an eye roll. 

“You flatter me, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa hummed, flipping his hair as he did. Iwaizumi rolled his eyes gracelessly, but nonetheless let a small laugh and a fond look melt across his features. 

“Isn’t that part of being your boyfriend?” He said, before he could stop himself. As the last word died on his lips, however, he clamped his mouth shut, eyes widening drastically. 

“Oh,” was all Oikawa said, face pink.

“I didn’t mean- if you don’t want to-” he said, scrambling for words, floundering where he sat, until he bit his tongue lightly to look at Oikawa. “Is…  _ is _ that what you want?”

Oikawa had been gaping at him, but at the final question, his eyes slowly began to crinkle up at the edges, almost beginning to tear up. But then he nodded and Iwaizumi felt all the tense breath he had been holding in his chest leave him at once, in a soft sigh that sounded vaguely reminiscent of the name “Tooru”. 

“Of course I do, Hajime,” he murmured, tears really starting to bud. “We just need to wait until I move.” 

“Yeah,” Iwaizumi breathed, nodding furiously before pulling him into another tight hug. Oikawa felt the puff of air against his neck, and smiled. “Yeah, Oikawa,  _ jesus,  _ yes, whatever you want.” 

And then his lips found Oikawa’s, and he was pressing his mouth to his in a soft, slow kiss. 

Oikawa hummed, and Iwaizumi sighed into it, pressing his mouth harder against Oikawa’s and tangling their hands together, squeezing his fingers as he did. 

“But,” Oikawa murmured, after a long moment of the delicious kiss, drawing his mouth the tiniest bit away from Iwaizumi’s to speak. He watched his attention shift from where their lips were still so close _ ,  _ practically touching, and up to his eyes, confusion evident. Oikawa smiled, before carrying on, voice dancing softly against the other man’s lips. 

“I don’t quite want to wait.”

Iwaizumi let out a breath, softly: Oikawa felt it against his lips.

And then they were kissing, for real, and that took fucking priority. 

Oikawa shuffled, hasty movements to get Iwaizumi further onto the bed so he could shift his legs onto either side of his thighs. His arms wrapped around Iwaizumi’s neck again, somehow managing to pull him closer as he tightened his grip. Their mouths pressed together, moving constantly, lips and tongue sliding across each other while hands tangled in hair, and Oikawa’s thighs twitching around Iwaizumi’s, and they pressed against each other in a way that made it impossible to tell if there was any part of them that wasn’t touching.

“Tooru,” Iwaizumi breathed, practically a moan, maybe a gasp, pulling back marginally to start pressing a line of kisses down his neck. His thighs twitched again, and Iwaizumi laughed, a warm, sweet laugh, like honey.  

With a sigh, Oikawa let himself be kissed, wherever Iwaizumi saw fit. Under his jaw, on his collarbone, just beneath his ear. When Iwaizumi bit lightly at the juncture between his neck and shoulder, he gasped, tightening his hold in his short, cropped hair and tensing his legs. Iwaizumi hummed. 

“Y’know,” he murmured, “I’m still expecting you to take the lead. Hanamaki was hardly thorough.” 

Oikawa laughed, pressing a kiss to his lips before pulling back and looking him in the eye. They twinkled. “I don’t think I’d want to know even if he was, Iwa-chan.”

“Don’t worry, we're on the same page,” he muttered. “You can keep all your stories about - what was his name? Shigeru? - to yourself.”

“We hardly did anything,” Oikawa said with a soft laugh, waving him off with a quick kiss to the corner of his mouth, before leaning forward until his forehead met Iwaizumi’s. He stared at him, staying quiet for a long moment, simply smiling down at his boyfriend. 

It was sweet, until he opened his mouth. When he finally did speak, Iwaizumi was completely conscious of the low dip his voice has taken, and he shivered.  

“If you wanted me to show you what we  _ did  _ do, though, I think that could be arranged.”

Iwaizumi felt his throat dry up, and struggled to swallow, before he blinked a few times and nodding energetically. With a laugh, Oikawa pressed one last kiss to his lips and shuffled off of his legs with trailing hands over his arms, torso, legs-

He decided he didn't mind not having any experience: Tooru was a  _ very  _ good teacher. 

\--- 

Later, much later, they were lazily tired but very content, covered in hickeys, and lying on Iwaizumi’s bed - or, if you were Oikawa: lying on Iwaizumi.

They had been staring at his ceiling, the same as when he was a child. Oikawa had sent him glow in the dark stars at age 13,  _ ‘so we can match!’,  _ and they were still stuck above his bed.

(Of course, the stars had been the  _ furthest  _ thing from their mind not five minutes ago, but it was a nice addition to their post-orgasm bliss.)

Iwaizumi let out a loud gasp, jolting slightly as his face scrunching up in annoyance. 

Oikawa turned his head, looking up from where he lay leaning against Iwaizumi’s bare chest to give him a look. 

“Oh my god,” was all Iwaizumi offered as explanation for the disruption. He shot a glance down at Oikawa and repeated himself. “Oh my _ god.” _

Oikawa’s eyebrows furrowed. “What?” 

_ “Hanamaki was right,”  _ he moaned, voice shot in annoyance and exasperation, face covered in despair. He brought a hand up to cover his face and groaned into the otherwise calm room. “He’s never going to let this go!”

Oikawa simply laughed, shifting his body so he was comfortably lying on Iwaizumi again, pressing a kiss to his shoulder as he did.

“Mmm, you can tell him later. Right now, though, is cuddle-Tooru-time,” he hummed. With an eye roll, Iwaizumi brought his hand back down to ruffle the fluffy hair tickling his chest. He turned down to look at Oikawa, where he was snuggling even deeper into his chest, and gave him a soft kiss atop the head as he did. 

“Don’t worry, Tooru, I’m all yours.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :') there we go, resolution!!! 
> 
> ((((watari is the token straight friend in the seijou vbc as far as im aware, and also a lil shit to his friends all the time))))


	9. home

No one had been even remotely surprised when they had announced that they were - or at the very least, would be - dating. 

Hanamaki had insisted on throwing a party, having dubbed it the “THEY GOT THEIR SHIT TOGETHER QUICKER THAN MATTSUN AND ME JAMBOREE”. There had been a cake. There had almost been a stripper, but Iwaizumi’s sharp glare had kept Bokuto’s clothes on firmly on his person.

The day he had gotten his results for his exams, and saw that it wasn’t just a crazy dream anymore, but an actual matter of ironing out the edges - jesus christ, no one in the vicinity could miss the screaming. Someone had had to convince an old woman not to call 911. 

He had called Iwaizumi first, of course, waking him up at 3:30 am - and in turn, Makki and Mattsun, who overheard Iwaizumi’s yelling and dashed in half naked prepared to fight off a murderer.

After that, he crushed Shigeru, Shinji and Kentarou in one particularly large and frankly aggressive hug. Shinji had to stop him from crying on their grade transcripts.

His visit had been in August, a late birthday present of sorts. Now, it was March, and he was on his way to settle into the city before his parents flew over with most his things to help him enroll. 

They had been planning this for seven months, one week, and three days. Oikawa had absolutely been counting. 

Similarly, he hadn’t even tried to be subtle about the way he started sprinting once through customs, bags in tow, and eyes set firmly on the sliding doors ahead of him. It was the home stretch now, quite literally, when he thought about it that way. Because he was finally,  _ finally  _ here, and here to stay. 

When he burst through the doors, wholly out of breath, his eyes roamed around the hall frantically, for any sign, anything he could recognise. He zeroed in almost instantly at a tall head of pink hair, just over a group of what looked like school children. He began to dash through groups of people, zigging and zagging frantically until he could make out a clear path towards where he could see Makki-

He was utterly blindsided when a heavy weight was thrown against him, tackling him swiftly to the ground with a shocked yelp. 

And then he was being kissed, headily, and he was lying uncomfortably on the handle of his suitcase and he didn’t care because god  _ damn _ it it had been seven months and he was  _ here  _ and throwing his arms around Iwaizumi’s neck and hugging him and crying and laughing and smiling and kissing him, all at once-

“Jesus christ, get off the floor,” Hanamaki groaned, practically dragging Iwaizumi up off of Oikawa and ignoring the offended squawks he got in return. With a wide smile, Iwaizumi reached down and tugged Oikawa off the ground, hugging him tightly with no intention of letting go, while Hanamaki sighed and picked up his bags. 

As Hanamaki began the walk back to the parking garage, dragging Oikawa’s bags behind him as he realised that “you horny bastards won’t get off your asses otherwise”, Iwaizumi lingered, hand clutched firmly in Oikawa’s. 

He pressed a soft kiss to Oikawa’s lips, just because he could, and smiled up at him. Softly, he ran the pad of his thumb along his boyfriend’s knuckles. 

“Welcome home, Tooru,” he murmured. Oikawa smiled, tears budding at the corner of his eyes because ‘ _ alright  _ fine,  _ I cry when I’m happy! _ ’ and leaned in to kiss him long and slow. 

There were a lot of places that Oikawa had been taken on the journey to Iwaizumi.

Big or small, every little location had its meaning. Whether it was the small creek they had spent their childhood, the warm bedroom they had first kissed, the arrival hall they had not one, but two, excited reunions in, San Francisco, Miyagi, Tokyo... It had been a wild fucking ride.

But finally,  _ finally,  _ he was home.

 

** _fin._ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> omg its done, i finally finished it <3 
> 
> this has been wild, i hope you enjoyed it!!! i really appreciate all the love via comments and kudos ive been getting for this!!! love u guys <3
> 
> ((there is a matsuhana sidepiece in the mix that will probably be posted if i ever finish it, so theres that to look forward! and also i have about a billion iwaoi ideas to write up sooooo))
> 
> anyway, as usual: come scream abt iwaois with me @ americanbeautiies.tumblr

**Author's Note:**

> so this is like, very WIP. but HEY that's the fun in it! 
> 
> as always, commnts & kudos are appreciated, and as always, come scream about iwaoi with me @americanbeautiies.tumblr.com


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